


those sad things at night, we know no control

by chainsmokingnun



Series: Hell is Empty (All The Devils Are Here) [1]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood Drinking, Knives, M/M, Peter is training to be a priest, Pre-Slash, References to Religion, Religion, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Virginity, Virginity or Celibacy Kink, Wade is a vampire, pretty!Wade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-17 22:01:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9348359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chainsmokingnun/pseuds/chainsmokingnun
Summary: Wade drinks Peter's blood. That's it. That's the whole fic.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Death_Herself](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Death_Herself/gifts).



> Consider this a down payment on that AU im planning. 
> 
> I HAVENT FORGOTTEN YOUR PROMPT DEATH I JUST HAVE NO IDEAS FOR IT BUT ITS SLOWLY GETTING THERE. 
> 
> I blame Carmilla. And Vassalord. And Hellsing. 
> 
> (also happy almost birthday death. I may not know it, but im approximating here. Im probably close.)

“You're jealous.” 

Peter scoffed. Rain beat down outside. The fireplace set everything in a shadowy, ethereal light. 

The only human allowed in Wade's covenant settled himself on the couch. The juicebox of the night waddled upstairs. Her pretty long, blonde hair following behind her like a bridal train. 

All sweet and virginal. Walking without protest into a den of snapping teeth. 

Peter thumbed at his prayer beads, “Jealous? She's going to be consumed and broken down. If you don't kill her, you'll just dump her somewhere and she won’t remember a thing.” 

But there was an intimacy and intricacy in the feeding. The skin would break cleanly under the teeth. Piping hot blood would spill out directly from the source, coating the throat of the feeder. 

Any conviction the meal had melted. In that instant, they were not in control of their own bodies. They belonged to the leech feeding from them. 

Peter would be lying if he said he hadn't thought about letting Wade drink from him. The idea of Wade's teeth in his neck while his hands wandered elsewhere.The idea of nourishing him, of being the sole point of his attention. 

It did things to him it really shouldn’t. 

“I wouldn't have to, if you’d give me what I want.” 

Peter cut his eyes, “You're disgusting.” 

“Isn't self sacrifice one of your kinks?” And suddenly Wade was too close. And he was holding Peter’s face with gentle reverence. 

It was a trap of course. Wade was slippery. 

Peter was food to him. Plan and simple. A luxury food. A virgin sacrifice. He would do what he could to get it. 

Those cerulean blue eyes were piercing through him, begging him to look up. It was a game now, to see if Peter would allow himself to be hypnotized. 

“Just a taste of your red, baby boy,” A soft whisper in his ear, trying to lull him into a false sense of security, “That's all I want.” 

A surge of heat ran through Peter’s body. The feeling of hot breath ghosting over his skin sent every nerve alight. It petrified him. Lust was a powerful emotion. One that ruined lives and leveled cities to their knees. It stole the air from his lungs. 

“If I gave you what you wanted, you’d stop seeing me. I wouldn't be of any use to you.” 

Fingers traced his jugular vein. He felt a smile against his hair, “We still talking about your blood?” 

“Was it ever really about my blood in the first place?” 

Wade buried his face fully into the crook of his neck, mouthing against his pulse point. Peter gasped at the suddenness. He cradled Wade's skull, fingers tangling in blond hair. 

“Don't you dare…” Peter trailed off. A chuckle. Wade’s tongue lavished a particularly sensitive spot. 

He was hard. Pathetically and shamefully hard. The body's natural response to such stimulus. But Peter thought he was beyond matters of the flesh now. 

Flashes of prayer and God and Mother Mary swam to his mind, but all he could think about was Wade’s mouth, dangerously close to an artery. Wade's hand, slowly moving up his inner thigh. 

“Get...get off me Wade.” 

“Hm,” He kissed his cheek, “But you’re hard.” 

“Off.” 

Wade sighed and slid off the couch. He turned to leave, probably to attend to his most recent bedfellow. 

Peter sliced his finger on a letter opener left on the side table. 

Small droplets of crimson stained silver. Peter risked a glance at his host, the offending weapon still in his hand. 

Wade had stopped moving completely. His shoulders were squared, his back tense. His body shook with barely held restraint. 

“...Peter.” 

“You really shouldn't leave sharp things out like that,” said the theocratic scholar, “People get hurt that way.” 

The beast was crouching between his feet, snarling. Never had his eyes burned this brightly at the sight of blood. He took Peter’s wrist with a shaking hand. 

No drop of blood was wasted. Wade’s tongue caressed the wound, cleaning it up while urging more out. Teeth grazed against his fingertip. 

He could feel a part of himself dripping into Wade. Now he belonged to the vampire. Now he was his. 

Slowly, he allowed the digit to leave his mouth. Wade's pupils were dilated. He licked his lips. 

“That wasn't enough,” He whispered, “There’s no way you couldn't have known...the way you taste…” 

“That's all you're getting,” Peter swallowed thickly. Wade rose up from his haunches. 

He was gone when Peter blinked.


End file.
